A Vow Unfullfilled
by Knave Iespyk
Summary: Destro's past catches up to him at last, but will Zandar use it to his advantage? Comes after Victory For Cobra


A VOW UNFULFILLED

  
  


It was late, in the small town of Saint Nazaire, France. James McCullum, better known to the world as Destro, sat at the counter of a delicatessen. The customers had all gone home leaving himself and a waiter alone.

  
  


"I swear to you, monsieur, my lips are sealed. Only myself and my daughter will know of this," the waiter said.

  
  


Destro paused, his mind whirling about the possible consequences. His hand brushed against his gun and he thought better of it. This was not his way. "See that they are," he said. With one last glare he stood and pulled his coat tighter about himself. The waiter mumbled something, causing Destro to stop. "What was that?"

  
  


* * *

  
  


"I said we're at the town you asked for. There's a good stretch of land here, I'm going to touch down. I'll wait for you to return. No sense wasting precious time and energy. Maybe I'll stop in on the town, find myself a nice French woman," Wild Weasel replied, touching the controls.

  
  


Destro nodded. He'd been lost in his thoughts a lot lately. Issues that needed to be resolved. A curse on Zartan. The mercenary had uncovered a secret he'd long thought dead. As such the memories of that haunting night played over and over in his mind.

  
  


If he noticed his passenger's silence, Wild Weasel didn't let on. He was more than content to carry both ends of a conversation. Talking about such useless things as the best pilot scores, kill ratios and all the women he could pick up. Destro was greatly relieved when the plane landed and he was able to disembark. The pilot had his instructions: Wait by the plane, but keep it hidden. 

  
  


The precaution was necessary. With Cobra's recent takeover of Iceland G.I. Joe was doubtless setting up constant patrols of the surrounding area. But Destro's business could not be delayed.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Wild Weasel watched Destro's retreating form. He grinned and picked up his radio. "Zandar to Zartan. The weasel has landed. Instructions?"

  
  


* * *

  
  


Not a large city by any stretch of the imagination, the little fishing town of Saint Nazaire sat nestled on France's western shore. The squat brick buildings were just as he remembered them. So was the delicatessen. "La Charcuterie de Madame LaFitte" the sign read, swinging in the wind. It didn't seem like anyone had bothered fixing up the place in the dozen or so years since he'd last been here. The door creaked loudly as he entered the establishment. It reeked of cheap liquor and stale cigarettes. The owner, probably the daughter of the original Madame LaFitte, approached him.

  
  


"Bonjour, monsieur. Voulez vous quelque chose a manger?" she asked.

  
  


"Excuse me?" Destro asked in kind, genuinely confused and desperately hoping she spoke some English.

  
  


"Ah, one of those Eenglish types," drawled a thin man. Unsteadily he walked over to the two. "Don't you worry, doll, I'll be your lips. She wants to know if you're hungry."

  
  


"No. I'm looking for someone," Destro said, "a Mister Joseph Star." 

  
  


An exchange occurred between the two, then the thin man turned back to Destro. "Sure you can go see him, but you'd better bring a shovel. He's been dead for a year now. Committed suicide or something. Come to think of it, it was a nasty little fall he had. Fell right into the ocean."

  
  


A scowl crossed Destro's face. "What of his daughter?"

  
  


"That pretty little thing? Everybody knows Vanessa Star. She still lives up at her father's old place. If you're looking to find her, that's where she'll be. You looking for a wife or something?"

  
  


Destro ignored the man and left the deli.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was odd. Even this lane-way looked familiar. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Events of great proportion tended to do that to you. A vow he'd broken, and it haunted him still. The gravel crunched underfoot as he approached the house at the base of the hill. It was made of wood. Joseph's father had made it before his son was born, and it had been passed through the family since, it would appear. He rapped firmly on the door. No answer. He knocked again. Still no answer. Taking a quick look to make sure that no one was around, Destro picked the lock to wait inside.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Zandar smirked from his position in the field. Destro had walked right by him, mistaking him for an ordinary farmer. "He's gone into the house. I'll report more later."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Destro walked slowly around the living room of the house, examining books and knick knacks, trying to see how Vanessa had grown up. What she'd done with her life since last he met her. A picture caught his eye. It was Vanessa, her long black hair streaming behind her as she swung on a tire swing. Her brilliant smile and gleaming eyes brought memories flooding back. Destro pushed the picture face down and scooped up a book to read. He wasn't sure how long he'd have to wait, but hoped it wouldn't be long.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was fifty-two minutes, as it turned out. Destro could hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Peals of laughter rang out from the other side of the door, indicating that Vanessa had a companion of some kind. A man in his middle ages opened the door and stepped inside. He took four more steps before the sound of a gun being cocked attracted his attention. He glanced behind him and then at Destro, "Run Vanessa!" he shouted before a bullet struck his collar bone. He fell backwards into a coat rack, tipping it over.

  
  


Destro sprinted towards the door and a brick hurtling at him. It caught him in the shoulder, causing him to grunt in pain. The young girl who had thrown the brick picked up another from a pile beside the garage but stopped when she saw his face. "You... You're Destro, aren't you?" she gasped, her face paling. Destro nodded and gestured towards the house. She ran over to check on the man. When she was satisfied that it wasn't mortal and that the only reason that he wasn't moving was because he'd fainted, she turned her attention to Destro. "Why are you here? Is it because of what my father said? He didn't mean to, honest, and I had nothing to do with it."

  
  


The second in command to Cobra Commander raised his hand for silence. "The fewer who know our secret, the better," he said. He dragged the man by his armpits into the closet. He then blocked the door with a heavy sofa. Vanessa led him down the hall into her bedroom.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"He's my uncle," she began, "when dad died, he inherited the house. He adopted me too, so I wouldn't have to go to some orphanage in some big city."

  
  


"That explains why he was here. How much does he know?" Destro said, sipping at his tea.

  
  


"Nothing really. My dad and I kept it a secret just between us two. If it hadn't been for that strange man, no one would know."

  
  


"Strange man?" Destro inquired, his curiosity peaked.

  
  


"He came to our house and said you'd sent him. He showed us a signed note and everything. Dad figured it had to be for real, so he told the man the whole story. When dad finished the guy began laughing and thanked us for the information. That's when we realized that it was a trick. Dad thought for sure you'd come and get him so he went into town a week later and killed himself. It... It was horrible. I lived for weeks expecting you to come for me too, but you never came. Until now," Vanessa said, sitting on her bed, tears running down her face as she relived the painful memories. A long silence followed before she dared speak again "Are you going to... kill me?"

  
  


Destro shook as head slowly and moved to sit next to her. Gently he placed an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. "No. Zartan has tricked many of the smartest men, myself included, there was no way you could have seen through his disguise. The trick now is damage control. Zartan has a dangerous weapon to use against me. If the Baroness should find out," his voice trailed off.

  
  


"But why did she want me dead? Doesn't she love me?" Vanessa asked.

  
  


"More than she would admit. There are nights I've heard her talking in her sleep, wondering what you would have grown up to be. She thinks you are dead."

  
  


"But why?" the girl asked again.

  
  


"Because she's in a position of power. We must forever keep our families hidden and unknown to prevent them from being used against us. There are those who would use you as bait, to lure the Baroness into their traps. Your mother did not want to put you through such torment and asked me to kill you mercifully. It wouldn't have been the first time I've killed, but never so young as you were. She could not have known the terrible guilt I felt. But as soon as I saw your face, the resemblance to her, I knew I couldn't. I never lied to your mother," Destro added, almost trying to convince himself of this fact, "I told her that I had taken care of you and your father. She merely understood it to mean something else."

  
  


A silence hung in the air, both absorbing everything that had been said, wondering where things should go from here. Both wondered what would have happened if Destro had indeed carried out his orders so many years ago.

  
  


"If you're not going to kill me, then what?" Vanessa asked.

  
  


"You will have to move. Take on a new name, a new face. Zartan no doubt tracked you through the money I've been sending you and your father. That will have to stop," Destro said. He produced a briefcase full of money. "This will have to suffice you. I suspect that I will never see you again."

  
  


Vanessa took the offered briefcase and opened it. Her eyes widened at the amount within. She'd never seen so much cash at one time. "I don't know what to say," she said, stunned.

  
  


"Then don't say a word. I must be going. You will want to send your uncle to a doctor, but if either of you mentions that I was here, I will be forced to carry out my duty." Destro shook Vanessa's hand and kissed it, before leaving.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Outside, concealed in the bushes, Zandar listened in on the conversation through the bugs he'd planted in the house before Destro had arrived. "Zandar to Zartan," he spoke into the transceiver. "Come in Zartan... Everything went as you said it would. He wants her to move away and get some plastic surgery. Gave her some money too... Don't you worry about a thing, I'll take care of everything... I know, I know. Zandar over and out." The Dreadnok brushed the dirt from his knees, Destro now far enough down the road that he wouldn't see him, and knocked on the door.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Vanessa had just managed to help her Uncle Thomas out of the closet, his shoulder throbbing to high heaven, when she heard the knock. It wasn't ideal timing, but maybe it was someone who could help. When she opened it, she was surprised to see a man of average height and build standing in the doorway. He had striking red hair and was dressed in simple clothes. "Can I help you?" she asked, confused at this stranger's presence.

  
  


"I've come with a proposition for you. I know all about the conversation you just had with that masked man. I also know that he didn't tell you everything. Before we talk, we should tend to your uncle. He needs help."

  
  


She was puzzled by the whole situation. She hadn't the first idea who this man was, or how he knew about Destro, but he was right about Thomas. He needed medical attention. She dialled for an ambulance to come. A police officer would be dispatched to take a statement from her, but that was unavoidable. Luckily, Thomas couldn't describe who had attacked him as Destro had been standing somewhat in shadows.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Once Thomas had been taken away, and the police were satisfied with her answers and had gone, Zandar emerged from his hiding spot. He placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the couch.

  
  


Zandar walked over to the mantle, where the picture had been turned down, and picked up the portrait. After staring at it for a while he turned to face her, his back leaning against the fireplace. "Destro is a complicated man," Zandar said in a half whisper. "He's full of honour and dignity, but also does whatever suits his needs. He won't lie, but he'll bend the truth. Everything he told you is true, almost. Destro fears you for what you represent, not out of love for the Baroness. We've long suspected that they are not on the best of terms, that one of these days he will break it off, but until then he has to lead her on. You are the memory of a vow broken, something that haunts him nightly, and yet he needs you alive for his own purposes."

  
  


Vanessa followed him with her eyes as he walked to her uncle's liquor cabinet. "He wants you alive so that when he does break up with the Baroness he can shame her by bringing up her past. The fact that she slept around and was too much of a coward to do her own dirty work." He glanced over his shoulder as he poured himself a drink, his eyes meeting hers. "I'm glad he didn't. To deprive the world of such a woman would be a crime."

  
  


The eighteen year old flushed slightly at the compliment, but found rage beginning to boil within her very soul. She had started off somewhat resentful and fearful of Destro. He had wounded her uncle, drove her father to his death and was now asking her to uproot and move elsewhere. To know that she was being used like some sort of pawn...

  
  


Zandar eased himself into an armchair and took a sip of the brandy he'd poured. "Mark my words. He's keeping track of you. When you move away he'll stride over and display you to the world for what you are - The daughter of a known and dangerous criminal. The Baroness will be forced to come to your aid and she will be arrested. I wouldn't be surprised if she got the death penalty for it."

  
  


"Why are you telling me all this? This is too much for me," Vanessa started.

  
  


"Hear me out. I come as a friend. To be honest, I've never cared too much for the Baroness. She acts high and mighty and generally disrespects me. But she's smart, probably the smartest woman I know. Cobra needs her alive, and there's only one way I can think of to do it. Join us," Zandar said.

  
  


"Me? Join Cobra?"

  
  


"Not Cobra, no. As a member of Cobra, Destro would be able to refuse your admittance and you would be sent back here. No, there's an easier way to ensure your safety, your mother's safety and the safety of the rest of your family. He brother owns a mercenary group known as the Dreadnoks. We usually work for Cobra Commander, and he pays very well. A single month's pay would make what's in that briefcase look like pocket change. Join us. We'd train you, equip you, and keep you safe from Destro's evil clutches."

  
  


"Would I have to... kill anyone?" Vanessa asked.

  
  


"Mercy no. We Dreadnoks rarely have to kill, and only in self defence. You'd carry a gun on you, but you wouldn't have to use it to kill. You could shoot warning shots to keep G.I. Joe away, for example. And best of all, you'd get a large share of the take. Think of what you could do with that money. Uncle Thomas is going to have some large medical bills, he'll be out of work for the next little while and won't be earning money."

  
  


"Money's always been tight, even with Destro's stipend. But won't I get a criminal record?"

  
  


"I'll be honest with you here. We Dreadnoks often get asked to do some things that aren't quite legal. But we stick up for each other. We've got the best lawyers money can buy and we have computer experts who can wipe all trace of us from the computers. You'll be committing crimes, but no one will know. You'd even get to see your mother again," Zandar added.

  
  


Vanessa stood, feeling more confused now than ever before. Zandar talked a good deal, she had to admit. She always had been a bit of a rebel, getting a tattoo without her father's permission, staying out past curfew, testing all the rules he'd set out. But never anything illegal... Well, nothing too illegal. He seemed sincere enough, and sounded genuinely concerned about her safety, which was definitely a plus.

  
  


"I... I'm not sure," she said at length. "I just don't know."

  
  


Zandar jerked his head to the side suddenly and held his hand up for quiet. He walked stealthily to the bookcase and snatched a recording device from off the wall. It was one of his own, but Vanessa didn't know that. "Dammit. I wonder how many more of these he has in here. They're probably everywhere. Luckily, I know where this probably transmits to. I told you he'd be tracking your movements. Why don't you sleep on it? I'll try and contact you some time next week. If by then you want to join the Dreadnoks, I'll make all the necessary arrangements and..."

  
  


"No," she said. "I've... I've decided. You're right about Destro. There's nothing left for me here. A life with Cobra? Why not?" her voice quavered. "Just let me pack a few things and I'll be ready."

  
  


Zandar placed his hand on her shoulders and tilted her head up. "Sleep on it. I won't be able to arrange passage for you until tomorrow night. Nine o'clock, I'll be here. If you still feel up to it, that's when I'll take you away. I really must go now, if I don't catch up to Destro all might be for naught. He'll hear everything that happened in here. Nine o'clock tomorrow night. Don't forget."

  
  


"Thank you," she said, briskly kissing his cheek. "I won't forget."

  
  


With that said, Zandar turned and disappeared out the front door. There was an extra bounce to his step. Mission accomplished.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Destro tapped his foot impatiently as he stood at the side of the road. There was Wild Weasel, coming at last. He carried his helmet under one arm and bore lipstick marks across his face. A rictus grin told him everything he needed to know. "Sorry about the delay," he said. "I told her to make it quick, but you know how women are. They take forever to do anything."

  
  


"I do not care about your personal affairs. Just get me home, I've had more than enough of this country," Destro retorted.

  
  


"You don't know the half of it, Destro."


End file.
